


Diverged

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles AU's [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Divergent AU, F/M, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 21:31:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16751842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Loosely based on the series by Veronica Roth.





	Diverged

**Diverged**

**-**

He spent the better part of a year staring at the wall. Not staring, per se, but watching. He placed himself closer and closer. Worked to edge himself to the fields nearest to the towering barrier. Every day he’d wake up at dawn to ensure he caught the right trucks. She would’ve laughed and made a comment about  _finally_  finding something that would pull him out of bed.

He squinted up into bright sunshine or falling rain, whether he was planting or picking. The reflections off the metal towers were sometimes enough to make him hiss and turn away from the harsh light. But as soon as the spots from his vision cleared, he always glanced back up. Always. There was always the chance of a shift change, a message delivery, new rounds. He spent his evenings wondering if she’d been there, if he just hadn’t been looking at the exactly right moment. Maybe he could’ve caught a glimpse, if he’d just watched a moment longer.

It started to drive him mad, and others noticed. They encouraged him to let go of the past, to be at peace with their decisions. And he wanted to. He wanted to be free of the compulsory wall-watching, the constantly dashed hopes. He wanted to be able to  _not want_ , to look forward to the day their paths crossed again without trying to force its occurrence. 

They talked him out of the fields. He went into counseling training. For every assurance he told himself– that he could help people this way, that he’d be closer to resources he could use to invent, that the city would keep him away from the wall and its ever-dutiful guards– the truth burned in his chest. He did it for her. Every client who confessed in terrified whispers that maybe they’d chosen  _wrong_ – they were all Astrid for him. And just like he’d done before their choosing ceremony, when he’d taken her by the arms and kissed her for the last time, he spoke to them in calming tones. 

“Everything will be okay.”

“This is the scariest part.”

“You can do this.”

They listened and nodded and murmured their thanks. She hadn’t. She’d always been the hatchet, he the honey. She’d held onto him tighter than she had the night he kissed her breathless beneath the plum trees. They carved a heart into one, though he’d muttered how cheesy it was even as he dug his knife deeper. 

But she chose anyways. And so did he. 

And two years later, he’s still wondering why he checks every black jacket for the gleam of a blonde braid. 

“Glad you could come,” the tattooed leader says gruffly, gripping his outstretched hand with a painful tightness. “Call me Snot.”

“Hiccup. It’s my pleasure,” he replies with a tight smile and a polite nod. It’s not like the first time he came to Dauntless, when he’d been breathless and looking around every corner. He learned quickly that the areas visitors are kept to don’t access the main complexes. He’s stopped hoping every time a request from Dauntless crosses his computer screen.

“This one’s special to boss man,” the inked gentleman informs him conversationally as they duck through the dim and dank corridors. “She’s shown extraordinary promise since day one. Top of her class. Leadership capabilities.”

“So what happened?” Hiccup feels smothered by the heat of the hallways, and he shoves the sleeves of his maroon sweater up his forearms. He wants to pull at his gold necktie.

“They’re testing a new serum,” Snot answers. He doesn’t bother looking at the scrawny amity teenager as he walks, his thick-soled boots thudding against the concrete floors. “For the initiates. It’s a hallucinogen, a neural exciter. For testing.”

The thought makes Hiccup swallow uncomfortably, but he doesn’t comment. 

“Anyways, she volunteered for testing ‘cause she scored so well in her fear fields. But the idiot administering the experiment gave it all to her in one go instead of gradual doses.”

Two words stick out for him– the fear fields. That’s the usual cause of his services, the reason why so many counselors are called out to Dauntless every year. Fear fields and PTSD. He’s heard some horror stories.

“Is she okay?” Obviously not, or he wouldn’t be needed. But still, he feels obligated to ask. 

“She’s tough. Doing better from what I’ve heard. But still a little out of it.” Snot stops abruptly at the entrance to the medical wing. “She’s in solitary for now. Check in with the medic, and she’ll take you to her.”

Hiccup opens his mouth to thank him, to ask for a file, to request more information– but his burly escort is already finished. His muscled shoulders are held back as he saunters back the way they came. With a frown, Hiccup enters the medical wing, which looks more like some of the homeless shelters he’s seen than any doctor’s office. He quickly finds the nurse in charge, signs a few documents, and is led away. 

The door he’s brought to is heavy and metal. There’s a small glass pane to see through, but it’s high up and barred off. Instantly Hiccup is reminded of a jail cell. 

The nurse unlocks the door and then leaves him with as much of a goodbye as he got from Snot. Hiccup puts his hand on the knob, unsure whether to expect a half-crazed terror or a withered ball of nerves. He gathers his professionalism and draws the door open. His eyes fall on the girl seated at the table in the center of the room. Her back is to him, and the sight of it makes his mouth go dry.

She’s wearing a loose black top, which has been slashed and cut to reveal the pale column of her spine, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades. She’s sitting straight, her head facing forward. A haphazardly tied ponytail drips gold hair down to the base of her neck. But between the strips of her shirt, her blonde hair, and the enticing line of her bra strap, he can still make out the ink of her tattoo. 

It’s a black, gnarled tree curling up her back. And a sloppy heart has been carved out of the trunk.

At the sound of the door falling shut behind him, Astrid turns her head and glances over her shoulder. When her blue eyes fall on him, she beams, and her smile is like the sun in the dark confines of the Dauntless complex. 

“Hey, Hiccup.” There’s a teasing note to her voice, the same one she used to say she loved him for the first time. A mischievous glint flickers in her gaze, and something cold slithers in his stomach. “They keep killing you while I sleep.”


End file.
